One Even Stranger Play
by Valyemma
Summary: After the escape of the Suzaku Priestess and her two Seishis, Nakago thinks of new strategies to fulfill his agenda.
1. Chapter 1

_**Please read: Sorry to update this story as if I was uploading a new chapter, but the prologue needed some major editing due to some important plot pieces that have been forgotten or needed to be changed. Some of the modifications you may notice (if of course you've read the previous version) can seem minor at first glance, but will have more importance for the next chapters.**_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fushigi Yuugi, don't sue me.

**Pairings:** Hotohori x Miaka. (One or two other pairings will be introduced much later.)

**Rating:** G. (For now)

**Genre:** Romance, drama, adventure, action.

**Warnings:** None for this prologue.

**Spoilers:** There might be hints of some episodes until the twenty-first.

**A/N:** *FINALLY* I decide myself at seriously writing one Hotohori x Miaka story.

I know the title of my story sounds kind of... ostentatious since it's a distortion of the original anime's title, but well... I must say the plot bunnies gave strange offspring for this story...

Be warned, this will become one complicated story. There might be some spoilers in the future chapters, but of course, the overall story will be completely different from the original series. (Well duh, it's fanfiction!)

I all the same hope some of you will enjoy it. :)

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**One Even Stranger Play**

By Valy

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_**Prologue**_

Nakago glared out the window, his mind growing as tempestuous as the approaching dark clouds slowly crowding the blue morning sky. The rising wind soared through the trees, stirring their branches and leaves, plunging the imperial gardens into a lugubrious atmosphere. He was not the kind of person to consider this scene as an omen of any sort, but he had to admit the menacing weather was a perfect reflection of his mood.

His plan to kill the Priestess of Suzaku and two of her Seishis failed miserably in spite of the seeming infallibility of its design.

These two weaklings and their wretched priestess had escaped, just when he finally was holding them in his grip. That Chichiri had regained his power and broke the barrier he had created around them was a humiliation! And even worse was the fact that this was not the first time that monk had offered such formidable resistance.

The first thunders rolled on the horizon as the wind growing in intensity swayed the leanest trees into a sinister dance. His frown deepened.

Had he underestimated his enemies? Maybe. Tasuki had been unable to use his power for all the time the force-field was in place, but Chichiri... He transfigured into his double and freed the girl before he lowered the force-field. And this for his personal enjoyment. This huge error, the need to see the spectacle that the combat between Tamahome and Tasuki offered him; this permitted Chichiri to alert by some obscure means the other Suzaku Seishis and obtain their help.

Soon the wind blew too strong and the rain started whipping his face. He slammed the window shut.

_'This monk is smart... And surely has more power than I expected.'_ He thought, drying his face with the napkin laying beside his breakfast.

_'But how could he have found a way to break through the field? I saw nobody else with them... Maybe a small animal passing by... A mouse, an insect, a cat... Probably...'_

Putting the unresolved question aside, he sat down and ate in silence, listening to the blasts beating on the windows.

From this event, he decided he had to be more cautious. His fellow Seishis reunited, they easily could take advantage over the Suzakus, but nothing was really certain. The missing warrior, Chiriko, would make his appearance soon or later, it was written; all Seishis must soon or later meet their Priestess, and Nakago knew the powers he could possess.

_'A Knowledgeable Child... This brat can be a danger regardless that he doesn't seem to be a fighter...'_ He mused, staring at the small blue chest containing Suzaku's Book of Four Gods, which rested on the nightstand that rose in the corner of his room.

For the sake of his scheming, he had to take a hold of the information these scriptures carried. Although most were similar to the Seiryuu's, the few differences were interesting and needed to be carefully studied, and _fast_; In spite of the fact that Tamahome was now under this mind-controlling spell the possibility that his enemies would set up a new attempt to recover their precious scroll was imminent.

He frowned at the remembrance of the young man's tears.

A spell that did not seem to work as well as Miboshi promised him!

Unfortunately, the wizard warned him: he was forbidden to give Tamahome another dose of the drug if he wanted to keep him alive; what has been given was the strongest measure, and due to the practically permanent effect on the body, the smallest dose would kill the young man without any delay.

Could love somehow alter the effectiveness of the Kodoku poison, was there an error in its preparation, or had he not worked enough upon Tamahome's psyche? Love surely could have been the primary cause of this unexpected reaction, especially due to the fact that Yui said she had made him swallow the drug on the night preceding the event. He was not given enough time to shape his memories and beliefs altogether. But there was no question to renounce: the Kodoku already had shown its high potential in such a short time, and according to what Miboshi hinted, this drug possibly possessed one certain versatility in the modeling of a mind. It could make one's attitude switch from a brutal beast to an inoffensive wimp, even to other alternative personalities. It seemed amusing... and extremely practical!

It was decided. The best option was to keep Tamahome confined in the palace as long as possible. It could be still possible that not any interaction with the Suzaku Priestess could erase his love for the Priestess totally from his subconscious. It was something extremely simple. He could casually control the young man at distance with this magical earring Miboshi gave him. So he could conclude that just giving him an order face to face was sufficient to command him.

And it would please Yui and preserve her faith in him.

Thinking about it, everything seemed to keep playing out in his favor. Any inconvenience could become a useful tool if carefully considered. He could still use Tamahome to lead the Suzaku Seishis to their defeat.

This time, he had to think about a better strategy, even if he'd have to ask for the assistance of his Emperor.

But nothing was really sure; Shoukitei had been highly disappointed at this failure, Nakago had expected it, but the Ruler, after all these years, had gained enough confidence in him to accord him another chance. But this had no importance for the Shogun. He could do without his master's graces and knew when to request them.

The monarch was known for his sexual depravity, his abuses of alcohols, opium, and other hedonistic excesses. And it was easy to obtain his contentment, or occasionally take action without his knowledge once he was inebriated or when he was absorbed into one of these repulsive orgies Nakago knew all too well. This bastard would sell his own children with a simple gesture of his hand, as long as he was not distracted from his addictions.

Or he could just kill this poor excuse for an emperor and his minions at any moment by a simple ki blast... But he preferred to keep this option open, and only in case of extreme necessity. It was more amusing to play with this puppet for a while before throwing it in the fire to make him pay for what he did to him in the past.

This was so simple... Too simple!

He smiled as he sipped his wine, reveling in the satisfaction of his impending revenge.

TBC

**A/N:**

Thank you Katie for beta-ing and editing my engrish! ^^

I is not native English speaker... lolz...

Anyway, comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism are more than welcomed.

Valy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fushigi Yuugi.

**Chapter rating: **PG?**  
**

**Warnings:**

**Spoilers:** There might be hints of some episodes until the twenty-first.

**A/N:** Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I was blocked on it and annoyed to take so much time at updating so I decided to upload this Nuriko scene.

**One Even Stranger Play**

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_**Chapter One: Sun Doesn't Always Shine For Everybody **_

The sun rose clear and bright upon the Imperial Palace, drowning the gardens into an aura of renewal as the leftover of the rain that had fallen in over the last days dripped over the leaves, grass and flowers, catching in a twinkle the sunshine in their last fall before returning to the earth.

Everybody seemed to be still asleep in the Palace, in exception of the Imperial guards who kept their everlasting statue-like appearance and the occasional servant appearing and disappearing at the corner of an alley or a corridor, hastening to finish the preparations of a new day.

_'A new day, indeed...'_

This was the first thought that crossed Nuriko's half-awakened mind as he opened the door of his room. He took a step back into as the sun rays abruptly blinded him. Leaning against the wall, he rubbed his swollen eyes. The tears he had shed since the preceding day in the obscurity of his room had irritated them, and the sunshine was not their friend at this moment.

He looked down at the contrast that the light slipping by the small opening of the door drew on the dark floor. He had to go out and face the world. But this little light was leading towards a reality too strong and overwhelming, and he still was not ready to face it.

This was unfair...

His hopes were finally broken. His world had collapsed when he learned the news; all the efforts to acquire the object of all his desires and dreams, all the feelings he fostered, kept alive for his cherished Emperor were in vain.

Miaka had say 'yes' to Hotohori.

He closed his eyes in an attempt to fight back new tears as he let this sad news haunt his mind once again.

Deep down, he knew it would have been impossible to marry the Emperor. Nuriko was a man, and the first duty of an Imperial spouse was to bear the child who will inherit the throne.

But maybe someday he would win his heart and become his lover? Emperors used to have mistresses, and some have been known to take pleasure and company with males. Maybe he later could try seducing him, slowly, little by little? Maybe they would engage in a secret romance, maybe...

Or maybe not...

No.

There was no use at daydreaming.

He sighed and turned over to his vanity and plunged his hands into the golden washing bowl one servant had brought him. The water was fresh, ideal for somewhat toning up his skin after a night of crying. He tried to relish for a few long seconds with the cool caresses the water usually brought him every morning, but the enjoyment was not really there this time. Drying his skin carefully, he then examined himself into the mirror; his eyes and nose still were a bit red and puffy, but being the tidy person he was could not make him satisfied of his own reflection.

He combed his hair and twisted it in his usual braid, sat down and took the tiny bottle of black pigment. Carefully tapping the thin brush on the bore to get rid of the exceeding powder, he allowed his mind to regain its composure. Strangely, applying make up always eased his spirit and put emotions aside for deep and logical contemplation.

Hotohori deeply loved Miaka. Nuriko knew this, and he even discovered himself a strong liking for this girl he first thought insufferable. He was not indifferent to her cheerfulness and innocence; she always had the ability to encourage and lift the spirits of the group. But her appetite and unrefined attitude were part of her charm. He had to admit it. After all, nobody is perfect.

And she was not that ugly; he could even say she was very pretty, but the jealous part of himself always sneaked around to find her flaws. She was a bit pudgy, he even called her fat several times, but he could not deny that his own aesthetic preferences for thinness was out of the standard fashion his culture encouraged. In Konan, men seemed to find perfection in voluptuous females (1), and Miaka, despite she was not fully formed yet, already possessed some attributes. She once told him that back in her world, young men were not paying much attention to her or even were teasing her about her body type because in her culture, being very thin was one prised rule for physical attractiveness.

But in this world... Nuriko often noticed the appreciative glances Miaka unconsciously gathered from commoners, he even heard some less than polite comments some men whispered by observing her. He even noticed the Emperor's occasional (but discreet) delight at observing her curves, and too often this particular glow in his eyes everytime he surprised him staring at her legs. But her forms were not the sole cause of the admiration. Her strange outfits were the main reason why people were observing her. Even the Imperial Advisors requested the Emperor to ask the Priestess to wear more casual and decent clothes, but Hotohori always seemed to ignore their protestations.

Or maybe not completely.

Rumors were running through the palace. He recently surprised a conversation between two of its best tailors about Hotohori's request to design and sew all sort of traditional clothes for Miaka.

Maybe a gift from the loving man for her? Or maybe he gave in to his advisors' harassment? He could not tell.

Ending his make up by coloring of his lips with the soft pink lip-balm, he completed his toilette with a touch of lily-scented perfume and observed his reflection. Most of the remains of his crying were gone, and in spite of his dark under eyes caused by the sleepless night, he found his overall appearance satisfying.

Satisfying, but for who?

His stomach clenched as a pang of sadness overtook him.

_'There's no more uses to make myself look good, since I have nobody to charm anymore...'_

**TBC**_  
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A/N:

Well, I hope you've enjoyed it. The next chapter will be much longer, I promise.

I just hope I didn't use too much of purple proses. I used to like them from time to time, but I always have had shared feelings about them...

You know, English is not my first language, and despite I do enjoy writing in English, I often tend to be discouraged over my lack of vocabulary and poor grammar. (Yes, I'm a crybaby...)

Constructive criticism are more than welcomed.


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